Influence

The next day, Wang Yan kept to his usual routine. He got up a little after six and, dressed in training clothes, ran laps along the tree-lined path in his own courtyard. This was a proper grand estate; one lap was eight or nine hundred meters, and it was quite imposing.

After he had run more than ten laps and was strolling toward the lawn, Qi Si came trotting over with a stack of newspapers. Wang Yan subscribed to all the major papers, and someone delivered them early every morning. If he was home, he would take the papers with him when he went out for breakfast. If he had spent the night elsewhere, Qi Si would buy a pile from the newsboys hawking papers along the streets first thing in the morning.

Qi Si waved the newspapers in his hand, unable to hide the delight on his face. "Brother Yan, huge news, huge news! Last night, Japanese strongholds in several places around Shanghai were attacked by the Loyalty and Righteousness National Salvation Army and Red Party guerrillas. The railways were blown up, and the port at Wusong Estuary was blown up too. On top of that, the prison north of the city was broken into, and more than two thousand prisoners were all freed. The Japanese are arresting people everywhere now. When I picked up the papers, I saw people skulking around outside, looking everywhere. They had to be Japanese spies. They deserved it! What a relief, so satisfying, so satisfying..."

"So that was why I thought I heard gunfire and artillery last night."

Wang Yan muttered to himself. He took the papers and glanced through them. Every front page was about what had happened the previous night, though the casualty figures differed. They were all making things up